


Bait and Bleed

by karaokegal



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Rape/Non-con References, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 02:13:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karaokegal/pseuds/karaokegal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has a rough night and Tosh proves her worth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bait and Bleed

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from [unfeathered](http://unfeathered.dreamwidth.org/)-Jack thinking about the master. Beta by [veritas6_5](http://veritas6-5.livejournal.com/). Comments and concrit welcome. Takes place during Series 2 of Torchwood. 
> 
> Merry Month of Masturbation 2013-Day 1.

That year might not have happened, but the election certainly had. The evidence was everywhere. Jack never knew when he’d spot a tattered poster, or the odd piece of archived footage would turn up, seemingly at random, on a television programme, and remind him of the whole thing. 

It wasn’t like he ever really forgot it. The physical scars had disappeared every time he came back from the dead, but the Master had inflicted psychological abuse that made Jack’s torture instructors at the Time Agency look like cross nannies.

There was no one he could talk to. The Doctor was gone; Martha had enough to deal with in her own family. He wanted to tell Gwen, let her be the one to comfort him, but as long as that ring was on her finger, he didn’t have the right to burden her. He almost wished he hadn’t chased John away quite so quickly. If nothing else, his old partner would understand what Jack needed to assuage the shame brought on by those memories. 

Luckily, between a new surge in rift activity and a return to his old haunts, there was plenty to keep him distracted. In the past, his leadership of Torchwood had always come second to the dream of the day the Doctor would come back for him. That dream had shattered painfully at the sight of the Doctor cradling the dying Master and begging him to regenerate so that the two of them could be together, in spite of what Jack and Martha, not to mention the whole human race and the Doctor himself, had suffered at the Master’s hands.

Now Jack was determined to keep his team as safe as possible. More drills. More training. Even when they glared at him and bitched behind his back, forgetting that the Hub was bugged and that their Captain never slept.

Tonight he was in an alley off Bute Street. He’d taken Tosh out on a Weevil-hunting expedition over Ianto’s and Tosh’s own objections. Toshiko had firmly rejected his form of hands-on weapons training by proving that she could qualify with every single piece in the Torchwood armory, but Jack felt she still needed experience in the field, if only to boost her self-confidence.

Jack had made Tosh repeat the plan enough times that he could sense she was getting irritated. She’d just have to get over it, and he wasn’t above reminding her that this little hunt was nothing compared to Torchwood’s standard training procedures from as recently as twenty years ago. He re-emphasised that the actual capture wasn’t important. It was about being able to work together with nothing but audio comms, and understanding the psychology of a hunted creature. 

“We want to take it alive,” he pointed out. “Killing should be our last resort; a sign of our failure.“

Alice would laugh her mirthless chuckle at the idea of _not_ killing something, surely.

They’d tracked a pair of scroungers straying from a nest, and set up a pincers formation to isolate one of them at the end of the alley. Jack hadn’t counted on two things: one being a large hole that had been burrowed near the wall, allowing their quarry to make its escape, and the other being a weather-beaten, but still fully recognisable poster with Saxon’s familiar “The Change Britain Needs” slogan, and his more horribly familiar face. 

It all rushed back, starting, as it always did, with the fact that Jack had been planning to vote for Saxon; not because he sounded good or because he believed that any politician made a difference in the big picture, but simply because he was hot. Something about his eyes and lips made Jack a willing voter, not to mention the fact that Saxon wore a suit beautifully. 

Torchwood’s relationship with Westminster had been precarious since the attack on Torchwood One, but Jack could easily imagine re-establishing a more friendly level of communication after a private meeting with the new PM, if he won. Maybe a few with his wife, as well. 

He let out a soft groan, wishing he could derail the memories, and knowing he couldn’t. He could feel sweat break out on his upper lip despite the cool night air. 

The Master had used Jack’s attraction to him as one of his main weapons. He never seemed to tire of setting up scenes where Jack was forced to perform with Lucy or Tish, where the Master would end up taunting Jack with a nearly always unfulfilled promise that the Master himself would touch him physically. The Master had the ability to look into Jack’s heart and soul, even the parts that he had worked hard to keep hidden from himself. He knew how much Jack still felt for his lost loves, Angelo and Estelle. He knew the guilt of the misbegotten marriages and the churning self-hatred of the sacrificed children. Most of all, he knew Jack’s feelings for the Doctor, and how thoroughly disgusted the Doctor would be if he ever found out that Jack would have shagged Harold Saxon in a heartbeat; and that Jack was aroused at the very notion of the Master shoving his cock into any part of Jack he chose to penetrate. 

Jack was breathing hard now, eyes closed, teeth clenched, Weevils and Toshiko long forgotten. He was consumed with shame at the images of himself _begging_ for the master. His cock was already throbbing for release. 

Normally, he’d hide the evidence with his coat and take it back to the Hub for whatever feeble attempts at solace might be found there, but right now the need was too strong, and he figured he’d be able to get off quickly and then give Toshiko the news that training was ending early tonight. She’d probably be thrilled. 

He undid his trousers and got a hand around himself, squeezing to the point of pain, as the Master so often had, when he deigned to let his own dainty fingers touch Jack’s filthy body. The Master’s voice was in his head, the sensual hiss, teeming with disgust at Jack’s very being, and not all that different from the exact inflection the Doctor had used when he told Jack he was “wrong.” 

In Jack’s mind, he could still hear the Master’s brilliantly matched combination of seductiveness and abuse—his hatred and anger and madness—tinged with the intellect that knew what Jack wanted and needed. Jack hated how easy he’d been to manipulate, and how much he longed for it now. 

“Yes, Jack, we all know what you are. Especially your precious Doctor. When I hurt you, I’m doing exactly what he would if he had a chance, and you want it because you want him to punish you. Go on, Jack. Harder. I _will_ fuck you this time. I’ll have Tish cradle your balls while I split you open, you’ll _bleed_ for me, Jack….for your Doctor…for all of your many sins.”

He was close now, moving harder and faster, but somehow it wasn’t enough. He knew what would push him over the edge, but some part of him wanted to keep Gwen pure, or at least free of this particular taint. The Master didn’t care. He’d invoke her as often as any of his other loves, but with whatever amount of control Jack still had, even as he was wanking in a dark alley, he’d try to preserve some innocence for his image of her.

“Jack? What on earth…oh…” 

He couldn’t force his eyes open, but he knew Toshiko’s voice. From the disgust he heard in her tone, he suspected that put this down to Jack’s usual randiness. Perhaps he should let her think that. It could be another gossipy story to tell the others. But he needed her now, needed something to help him come, because he was desperate and couldn’t stop now. 

Gwen was good in his eyes, but he _knew_ what Toshiko was capable of. 

“Tosh,” he grunted, “please….” 

It was all he could manage, with one hand roughly fisting himself and his buttocks clenched as tightly as they would have been if the Master were fucking him, he put out his hand in the general direction of her voice.

“Jack…” she whispered, and he did manage to open his eyes, meeting her concern with naked need.

With a certain hesitation, but clearly wanting to help, she put her hand in his and he grasped it tightly, relishing the feeling of her cool skin against his sweaty hand. He squeezed himself tightly again, before resuming his furious stroking, incorporating Toshiko into the imagery. Her delicate hands were fondling his testicles at the Master’s leering command, while Jack’s arse was pounded over and over, the Master riding him hard, and hissing every brutal taunt he could think of with that brilliantly evil mind.

Jack panted hard, biting down on his lower lip, feeling something about to explode deep in his very core and still, somehow, so far away. Then a touch so soft and tentative that he thought it was part of the fantasy, but no, it was real, Toshiko was touching his prick, letting her fingers play against the head, and the knowledge that she was doing this for him…. _that_ did it. He tensed his thighs against the wave that was about to engulf his body and let out a high-pitched gasp as he imagined the Master coming deep inside him.

His body shuddered through the release and the horror; the mixed pleasure and pain, and the revulsion at his own weakness when it came to the Master’s power over him, the inevitable execution to follow.

Jack’s head fell back against the wall that was supporting him and took a deep inhalation of the damp Cardiff night. Reality closed in around him, driving back the memories. He was on Earth, in Cardiff, in an alley. No Valiant. No Master. No Doctor. Nothing to believe in, but nothing to be frightened of either. Just Toshiko, now pretending to examine the hole that allowed their quarry to escape. He assumed it was easier to talk about Weevils than what she’d found him doing, and what she’d done as a result. Presumably it was something she never wanted to talk about; he wouldn’t be half-surprised if she asked for a small dose of Retcon.

“I didn’t know they burrowed.” Her voice was matter-of-fact in the cool night air.

“Then we both learned something new tonight.”

That hadn’t come out exactly the way he meant it. Or maybe it had. 

“Should we follow it?”

Jack shook his head. “Enough work for one night.”

She nodded and followed him toward the side street where they’d left the SUV. 

“Shall I drive?” she asked, a bit pointedly, holding out her hand for Jack to give her the keys. That was his Toshiko, apparently fragile, but with hidden strengths. There was a reason he’d pulled in as many markers as he had to get her out of UNIT’s custody.

He leaned back in the passenger seat, closing his eyes again, and although the memories themselves were being held at bay, Jack let out an involuntary sigh. He’d honestly thought he would have got his cock up Gwen _and_ her fiancee before Toshiko would ever have laid a finger on him. For all the pain and shame he went through, that moment in the alley had been…quite a moment.

“Jack…”

“Hmmm…” 

“You know, I…when I was in prison….things….they were….”

“I understand,” he said, cutting her off to spare her embarrassment. 

“Anyway, if you ever want to talk….”

This time his sigh was softer and accompanied by what he imagined might be a slightly wistful smile. Something had changed in that alley. Jack’s demons would never completely leave, but at least he had a new ally against them.


End file.
